


I got you a present

by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)



Series: Spreading Positivity 2020 [26]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Baker Derek Hale, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, M/M, Smart Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski is a Good Boyfriend, Stiles Stilinski is a Nice Thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23605558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasterella/pseuds/isthatbloodonhisshirt
Summary: It was kind of weird to see Derek like this. Stiles was the sore loser out of the two of them, if he was being honest. He had to win at everything, and he would never live down the time Derek had almost beat him at chess and he’d purposefully banged his knees against the table to make the board jerk and the pieces fall.Derek still liked to tease him about it. Stiles didn’t like losing, okay! It was probably the only child in him, plus his messed up high school life. Scott got to be the badass Werewolf, and make first line, and have the lineup of girls looking to get with him. He got to be the special golden child while Stiles was still just Stiles.Sure, he’d grown out of that bitterness, and he was happy—thrilled, even—to finally be settled down with Derek, living the good life with a hot Alpha Werewolf boyfriend and not running for his life every other day. He’d lucked out, in the grand scheme of things, butstill! He didn’t like losing.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Spreading Positivity 2020 [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667605
Comments: 20
Kudos: 672





	I got you a present

When Stiles got home, Derek was still sitting exactly where he’d left him. On the couch, arms crossed, scowl on his face, and pretending to watch what was on the screen while secretly just _fuming_ over the injustices of the world. 

It was kind of weird to see Derek like this. Stiles was the sore loser out of the two of them, if he was being honest. He had to win at everything, and he would never live down the time Derek had almost beat him at chess and he’d purposefully banged his knees against the table to make the board jerk and the pieces fall. 

Derek still liked to tease him about it. Stiles didn’t like losing, okay! It was probably the only child in him, plus his messed up high school life. Scott got to be the badass Werewolf, and make first line, and have the lineup of girls looking to get with him. He got to be the special golden child while Stiles was still just Stiles. 

Sure, he’d grown out of that bitterness, and he was happy— _thrilled_ , even—to finally be settled down with Derek, living the good life with a hot Alpha Werewolf boyfriend and not running for his life every other day. He’d lucked out, in the grand scheme of things, but _still_! He didn’t like losing. 

So to see Derek sulking over having lost, which he’d _never_ done before, was strange. And it kind of made Stiles feel bad, because Derek didn’t often put himself out there, and the one time he had, he felt like a failure.

Which was _bullshit_ , because Derek’s apple pie had been _leagues_ better than Mrs. Styner’s brownie-from-a-box and she’d totally only won because her husband was on the judge’s panel! Stiles was _adamant_ that this was why Derek hadn’t won the bake-off, and that was probably the only reason he was sulking so much. 

Cheating was the _worst_! And yes, okay, Stiles had done it that one time while they’d been playing chess, but that was _different_. Derek was his boyfriend, and it had all been in good fun. He’d found it _funny_ Stiles had sabotaged the game so he wouldn’t win, and had reset the board to play again with a small smile on his face. 

Mrs. Styner was _not_ Derek’s boyfriend—at least, he sure hoped not, or else _wow_ he had a lot of questions, and also would be pissed because, again, cheating—and this had been a bit of a big deal. The winner was slated to be featured in the town paper, which would increase their exposure overall. Mrs. Styner was a fucking stay-at-home mom without a business to promote barring her husband’s apothecary—again, _totally cheating_!—whereas Derek and Isaac had recently opened a bakery by the police station. 

_Literally_ perfect advertising! They’d only opened a month ago, and while business was good, Derek had spent almost all the money he had getting the place up and running, so he hadn’t really been left with much money for advertising. He was using most of it for ingredients, plus Isaac’s paycheque since, obviously, he wasn’t working there for free. 

The entire situation was bullshit, which was why Derek had been sulking for two days. 

_Two days_! 

It made Stiles sad. He hated how upset this entire thing had made him, because it was clear he’d worked hard and wouldn’t have been such a grumpywolf if Mrs. Styner hadn’t, one, cheated, and two, actually had a business to promote. If it had been old Mr. Jefferson, who’d won third place with a _delicious_ , light and fluffy and airy and _drool-worthy_ cream-filled donut, who also happened to be the owner of a café in town, Stiles knew Derek would’ve been fine with it. Probably even happy, because Derek liked supporting local shops and Mr. Jefferson had always been really nice to all the students who’d ever worked at his café part-time. 

Derek wasn’t mad he _lost_ , he was mad that someone who hadn’t _deserved_ to win had stolen first place because her husband was one of the judges. 

Stiles was mad about it, too. Which was why he’d done something about it.

Of course, he couldn’t call out the judges, because that would look like he was doing the same thing Mr. Styner had done by rigging the scoring for his wife to win, so he’d had to be smart about it. 

And he _was_ smart. So smart. It was pretty much one of his only redeeming qualities, if he was honest. Still not as smart as Lydia, but well, not everyone could be freakishly smart, all right! He was still smart! Just not freakishly so. 

Shutting the loft door behind himself, Stiles wandered over to the couch, moved behind it, then wrapped his arms around Derek from behind, resting his chin on top of his boyfriend’s head, right hand rubbing gently at Derek’s sternum. 

“What are we watching?” he asked. 

“Does it matter?”

“Is it at least good?” 

“About as good as Mrs. Styner’s brownies,” Derek sneered. Stiles knew his eyes had flashed even without looking. 

“Why are you watching garbage?” Stiles asked, and at least felt good knowing Derek was pleased to hear that, considering the scoff that had escaped him. He smiled, shifting so he could kiss the top of his sulking boyfriend’s head, then said, “I got you a present.” 

“Is it Mrs. Styner’s head?” 

“Not yet,” Stiles said with a smile. He pulled away, but only so he could awkwardly climb over the back of the couch, landing beside Derek and leaning into him while he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a torn piece of newspaper that his dad had graciously allowed him to rip out of the one he was reading at work, and held it out to Derek. 

The Werewolf was still scowling angrily at the TV, but he eventually shifted his gaze to the folded up item and snatched it out of Stiles’ hand, unfolding it slowly. 

“If this is the newspaper singing its praises about her stupid fake brownies, I don’t care if you’re my boyfriend, I’m eviscerating you.” 

“That ran yesterday, and the paper was actually pretty sassy about it. Everyone knows she only won because Mr. Styner rigged it, they were very short about her win. Not like this one.” 

Stiles smiled to himself, resting his cheek against Derek’s muscled bicep while his boyfriend flipped the article around to read it. He went silent, and Stiles knew even without looking at him that he was stunned. 

Shocked, but pleased. 

It was true, what Stiles had said. The author of the article for the bake off had been at the event himself, and he’d tried Mrs. Styner’s brownies to be able to write an accurate article. He knew as well as everyone else that it was boxed, and she hadn’t won fairly, but it wasn’t like he was going to call her out. His boss would’ve had his head. 

So, after Derek had lost and started moping around, Stiles had taken the rest of his pie under the guise of bringing it to the police station—as if he’d let his father anywhere _near_ that pie, please—and had instead brought it to the newspaper. 

He’d made a big enough show on his way in about wanting to thank everyone for their hard work and their amazing support at the bake off by offering them all some pie. _Well_ , the guy writing the article for the bake off—he was a nice dude named Simon—had been _pissed_ when he’d tasted the pie, because it was leagues better than the boxed brownie shit he was being forced to write about. 

This was where Stiles had needed to be a bit smart. They’d chatted a bit about the bake off, and about how it seemed a little unfair someone like Mrs. Styner had won when she wasn’t self-promoting, whereas people like Derek and Mr. Jefferson who actually owned shops in this industry weren’t being recognized and getting any exposure. 

He may or may not have suggested that Simon should write about the local, independently owned bakeries and cafés in town. He’d been sure to say this loudly, right beside Simon’s boss, while said man was in the middle of shovelling more pie into his mouth.

Of course, it was hard to argue an idea like that with a belly full of warm, delicious pie, and he’d wholeheartedly agreed and started off on this huge speech about how they had to support their local shops to the point where Stiles was pretty sure the guy thought this entire article was _his_ idea by the end of it. 

After that, Stiles had promised Simon he’d get him a free cherry pie—apparently his favourite—for his two-year anniversary at the newspaper coming up, and had been on his merry way. He hadn’t expected the article to come out quite so quickly, but Simon apparently had _much_ to say about baked goods and next thing Stiles knew, his dad—whom he’d told about the plan, and was upset he’d missed out on pie—was calling him to say the story had run. 

Stiles had gone to get it from him, since he wasn’t going to buy _another_ newspaper when his dad would just toss the one he had after reading it. Stiles had read the article after tearing it out, and was so happy to know Simon really _did_ support locals. He’d mentioned Derek’s bakery by name, praising his apple pie, and had even thrown in Mr. Jefferson and another two local bakers whom he’d gone to visit after his chat with Stiles to taste some of their amazing treats. 

So now Mrs. Styner was old news, with her gross boxed brownies and her stupid cheating ways. The real winners today were Derek and the other good, _honest_ bakers in town. 

“How...” Derek turned to Stiles, who was still resting with his cheek against his arm. “How did you do this?” 

“I gave the newspaper your pie.” He grinned. “The editor in chief seemed _really_ passionate about baked goods while eating it. I think you might find business booming not only because of the article.” 

Derek’s smile was slow to come, likely more from shock than anything else, but when it did, it was soft and sincere. He shifted his arm, forcing Stiles to pull away, and wrapped it around his shoulders, pulling him in to kiss at his temple, then his cheek. 

“Thank you, Stiles. This—I don’t even know what to say.” 

“You’re welcome.” Stiles snuggled into him more comfortably. Having a happy Derek was loads better than the sulking one he’d been around the past two days. “I’m glad it made you happy.” 

“ _You_ make me happy,” Derek insisted, kissing his temple again. “But I really appreciate you doing this.” 

“I care about you,” Stiles admitted. “I’d do anything for you. Besides, Mrs. Styner is a cheating cheater and next year, she is going _down_!” 

Derek laughed. “She sure is.” 

“You’re gonna make a giant cinnamon roll next year. Or-or a gigantic cookie pizza! Or a four-layered _lava cake_!” 

“Okay, let’s take a break on next year’s plan, we’ve got a long way to go before then.” 

That was true, the bake off only happened once a year, so they had time to plan. 

But oh was Stiles going to make sure Derek made something huge and delicious. He already couldn’t wait to rub it in Mrs. Styner’s stupid _face_! 

**END.**

**Author's Note:**

> Teen wolf (c) Jeff Davis 
> 
> Come chill with me on [Tumblr](https://isthatbloodonhisshirt.tumblr.com/).


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